An Experiment
by majesticartax
Summary: Haru is a cranky undergraduate and Nagisa has matured. In a few ways. A/N: There is a mild Attack on Titan crossover here, but the main pairing is Haru/Nagisa
1. Chapter 1

"Do you ever consider crashing your car so you don't have to go to class?"

"No, but then again I wasn't stupid enough to take a class called 'Marriage and Family'." Makoto said to his dark haired friend.

Haru sighed and thumped his forehead down on one of the large wooden desks in the psychology lab. He was tired, and he was annoyed. He was always annoyed. He was tired, annoyed, and he was tragically bored.

"How do you do it?" Haru asked, peering sideways at his friend through his disheveled bangs.

"Do what?"

"Nothing. Never mind," he mumbled in response to Makoto's clear disinterest in his existential crisis. Haru watched the brown-haired male rifle through his backpack for his laptop charger, which he knew Makoto had left in the living room in the apartment that they shared. _Serves him right,_ he thought sourly. Blinking, Haru picked his head up and reached for his own backpack at his feet. He should probably work on something if he wanted to maintain the façade of being the model student. Well, if he really _was_ at the top of his class, it wasn't really a façade, right? Whatever. Who cares.

"Shit," Makoto sighed, "I left my charger at home. Can I borrow your car?"

"What's wrong with yours?" Haru snapped.

"I forgot to put gas in it this morning and I don't feel like stopping now and wasting more time." The taller male replied, unfazed by his friend's surly attitude. "Please? I'll buy you coffee tomorrow."

"Fine." Haru dramatically snatched his keys from the desk and handed them to a grinning Makoto, "Dark roast, three creams."

"I know I know, thanks!"

Alone in the psych lab, Haru sighed again.

* * *

"NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN"

Haru's head snapped up from the computer screen and he shot the world's most powerful glare in the direction of the sudden, unwelcomed cacophony. A small blond boy, clearly oblivious to Haru's death stare—actually oblivious to Haru entirely—playfully kicked the door shut and busied himself with the removal of his blue jacket and bright yellow scarf in the corner of the lab.

 _I hate you._ The irked male thought. _Who the fuck are you anyway? What are you, 14? How did you even get in here?_

As Haru internally berated the intruder, the little fuck continued to hum noisily while practically dumping the contents of his messenger bag onto the floor. Pens and highlighters clattered to the ground as he yanked a neon pink notebook out of one of the pockets; Haru saw a black and white object bounce under one of the desks; an apparently precious object because the boy yelped before falling to his knees to search for it anxiously. Still unnoticed, Haru began to feel less scathing hatred and more mild amusement as he watched the strange young male peek under a (wrong) desk against the opposite wall. He looked very childlike perched on all fours with his butt in the air as he struggled to reach his thin arm far enough under the desk to feel around for his toy. Haru raised an eyebrow when the boy stood up with an exasperated huff, staring at the offensive piece of furniture and making physical preparations to attempt to move the heavy computer desk; he couldn't decide if he wanted to witness the inevitably hilarious show that would take place when the tiny blond tried to move something at least three times heavier than him, or if he should help him out a little…

"It went und-"

"AHH FUCK!" The boy screamed in a slightly deeper voice than Haru expected. He tensed up and clutched his chest as he whipped his head around, wild eyes falling on the black haired student sitting about 10 feet from him who still had his hands poised above a keyboard. "What—um, sorry—what? You scared the shit out of me. I didn't expect anyone to be in here."

"Obviously," replied Haru, annoyance creeping into his voice, "do you always enter empty rooms like that?"

" _Obviously_ not, since the room wasn't _empty_." The boy said, mocking Haru's tone and still breathing hard.

Haru removed his hands from the keyboard and swiveled in his chair to regard the blond properly.

 _Who the fuck do you think you are, you little cunt._

Okay, so he can't say that to a stranger, no matter how irritating said stranger was. Besides, it wasn't the boy's fault that Haru was in the midst of a bout of aggressive self-loathing. However, it was his fault that his flow of ideas had been viciously interrupted. So. Fuck him.

"I'm sorry, but who are you? Do you even go here?" Haru asked bitingly. To his surprise, the blond suddenly beamed at him with genuine warmth.

"Oh! I'm Nagisa, and sorry for bothering you, I really didn't expect anyone to be in here this time of day…and yeah, I go here. I'm—"

"Wait. This time of day? What time is it?" Haru looked around, panicked. Grabbing his cellphone he realized that he had 6 missed calls and just as many texts, all from Makoto. It was 7pm—he had been in the lab for four hours, and he somehow never realized that Makoto hadn't returned. He had also missed his last class.

Groaning, he scrolled through his texts:

3:38pm MAKO: PICK UP YOUR PHONE!

3:40pm MAKO: Don't panic, but your car is being towed to Rei's garage. I don't know what happened

3:40pm MAKO: I mean I know what happened, some kid backed into it outside the apt

3:48pm MAKO: he's going to pay for it but the tire hole…wheel hole? IDK the place where the tire goes is all effed up so it doesn't look drivable RN. I'm sorry :(

3:48pm MAKO: I'll buy you coffee for a year please don't hate me

4:29pm MAKO: please call me when you get this.

4:29pm MAKO: I'm so sorry!

Haru rested his head on his arms on the desk. "Fuck," he grumbled. He raised his head to type a response:

7:06pm HARU: fantastic. I don't hate you. Not your fault. I'm taking you up on your offer though. I'll see you later.

7:07pm MAKO: Let me know if you need a ride home. Kisumi brought me to my car.

7:07pm: HARU: thanks.

The now-carless-student put his head back down on the desk, momentarily ignoring his new acquaintance, who had since wandered closer with a look of concerned intrigue.

"Um…are you okay?" Nagisa said quietly.

Haru lifted his head to rest his chin on his hand and narrowed his eyes at the curious boy, "Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered, "my best friend just wrecked my car." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired blue eyes.

"Oh my god! Is he hurt?" the boy asked, clearly not the best at reading nonverbal cues.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. He's dead. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a paper to write or something." And with that, he put his head back down on the desk, silently begging to be left alone.

"Okay," Nagisa giggled, "well do you need a ride home or anything? I don't really have anything to work on, I just came in to get my TA notes that I left in the printer earlier."

Rolling both his eyes and head to the side to look at the other male, Haru was ready to snap at him again, until he realized what the small boy had just said. His eyes widened and he abruptly sat up.

"TA? You're a TA? You mean…are you a graduate student?"

"Yeah!" Nagisa giggled again, "you seem surprised."

"Well yeah…I um, kind of thought you were in high school… or something…You're…" Haru nervously trailed off, not sure how to address this boy—er, man who he had just been so blatantly and needlessly rude to.

"I'm what? Short? Adorable?"

"Yeah. I MEAN, um, you're short. And just really young looking. I never would have guessed." Suddenly flustered, Haru averted his gaze and swiveled to face his computer screen.

Nagisa giggled again. _He giggled,_ Haru thought to himself, _the man giggles like a school girl._

"So what are you?" the giggling graduate student inquired as he kneeled in the computer chair next to Haru, gripping the back and slowly spinning himself around.

 _Busy,_ he thought, _I'm busy._

"I mean," _spin_ "I know you're a psychology student," _spin_ "or else you wouldn't be in here" _spin_ "what year are you? What's your name?"

"Yeah I'm a psych student. A senior. My name is Haru." He answered to the computer screen.

"Haaaruu," nagisa said as he spun the chair once more. "It's nice to meet you, Haru-chan" he said, sticking his hand out in a formal greeting.

Haru's gaze flicked from the computer screen to the blond's outstretched hand and to his cheerful face; he hesitated before taking the warm hand in his, "Haru- _chan?_ Really?"

"Yep! Seems fitting. So what are you working on Haru-chan?" he added as he withdrew his hand. He leaned his chin onto the back of the chair to stare expectantly at the dark haired male.

"Uh. It's um.. a proposal." Haru tore his eyes from Nagisa's energetic face, _this guy's level of eye contact is too much,_ "I'm proposing a study to investigate the conversion of glutamate to GABA by way of an increase of glutamic acid decarboxylase. It's um..been difficult to find a practical method to test my hypothesis" he admitted dryly to the keyboard.

"I see," the blond replied after a pause, "I'm a social psych guy, so I don't know much about neurotransmitters or…whatever that acid thing is, but I could help you with your methods sometime if you want."

Haru raised his eyebrows and looked over at the shorter male, who had begun wiggling back and forth in the chair again, _He looks like a puppy,_ he thought, trying not to acknowledge how terribly self-conscious he was beginning to feel under Nagisa's intense stare. He had no choice but to notice the unusual coloring of his large eyes, which seemed to bore holes into Haru's soul.

 _Is this guy wearing pink contacts?_ "Um, yeah, that would—"

"Great!" Nagisa launched himself at Haru's computer screen, "what do you have so far? Can I see?"

"I didn't mean now!" Haru cried at his companion's unexpected enthusiasm.

"Oh it's fine I don't mind" the blond replied merrily as he leaned towards the screen, pressing his shoulder against the shocked student. Nagisa reached over the desk to grab the mouse, but Haru was not having it.

"Hey!" he said, a little too loudly, as he tried to snatch the mouse away from the meddlesome male, "Can you not!?" Haru's hand closed around Nagisa's small wrist to keep him from scrolling up to the top of the document. Shocked by his own sudden reaction, Haru quickly released the blond, who had stilled.

"I'm…I'm not ready to have anyone look at it yet.." he said more quietly, a blush creeping up his cheeks at the closeness of the other, who was again examining Haru's face and practically sitting in his lap.

 _Has he ever heard of personal space? Jesus._ "I still need to fix some things," he said, glancing at Nagisa's arm, which was still stretched across the desk. Haru awkwardly rolled his chair back to gain some distance from the man, who he realized smelled very pleasantly of fabric softener and-

"Ah, sorry Haru-chan. I didn't mean to be nosy." He said, straightening up. "But please let me know if you need any help."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Haru said, sounding slightly more irritated than he meant to. Nagisa was still looking at him and smiling, as though he expected him to continue speaking. _Oh my god, what?_ He thought.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you want my number?"

Haru blanched, "um what?" he said, crinkling his eyebrows. "Why?"

"How else would you ask for my help?" Nagisa laughed warmly. "Never mind, I don't want to pressure you, I'm sure you will do just fine without me. I hope I get to read the findings of your study one day. When you're a famous researcher I'll get to tell people that I met you once and you almost made me piss myself!" He laughed again as he walked over to the printer to retrieve his TA notes. Haru watched his back as he flipped through the print outs, humming to himself. Nagisa smiled at the undergrad as shoved the papers into his pink notebook before bending down to retrieve the items he had abandoned on the floor.

Grabbing his coat and scarf, the blond smiled once more at Haru before turning to open the door.

"It was very nice meeting you, Haru-chan."

"You too." Haru said, though it sort of came out as more of a question than a statement. He blinked a few times after the door had closed.

With a sudden realization, he stood up and walked over to one of the desks on the other side of the room. He got down on his hands and knees and slid his hand into the dark space between the wood and the carpet; he immediately closed his hand around a small rubber object and smirked to himself. _What the fuck. What a weirdo_. He thought as he looked at the penguin shaped eraser in his hand.

Quickly crossing the room, he opened the door and shouted down the hallway.

"Hey wait!""Do you ever consider crashing your car so you don't have to go to class?"

"No, but then again I wasn't stupid enough to take a class called 'Marriage and Family'." Makoto said to his dark haired friend.

Haru sighed and thumped his forehead down on one of the large wooden desks in the psychology lab. He was tired, and he was annoyed. He was always annoyed. He was tired, annoyed, and he was tragically bored.

"How do you do it?" Haru asked, peering sideways at his friend through his disheveled bangs.

"Do what?"

"Nothing. Never mind," he mumbled in response to Makoto's clear disinterest in his existential crisis. Haru watched the brown-haired male rifle through his backpack for his laptop charger, which he knew Makoto had left in the living room in the apartment that they shared. _Serves him right,_ he thought sourly. Blinking, Haru picked his head up and reached for his own backpack at his feet. He should probably work on something if he wanted to maintain the façade of being the model student. Well, if he really _was_ at the top of his class, it wasn't really a façade, right? Whatever. Who cares.

"Shit," Makoto sighed, "I left my charger at home. Can I borrow your car?"

"What's wrong with yours?" Haru snapped.

"I forgot to put gas in it this morning and I don't feel like stopping now and wasting more time." The taller male replied, unfazed by his friend's surly attitude. "Please? I'll buy you coffee tomorrow."

"Fine." Haru dramatically snatched his keys from the desk and handed them to a grinning Makoto, "Dark roast, three creams."

"I know I know, thanks!"

Alone in the psych lab, Haru sighed again.

* * *

"NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN"

Haru's head snapped up from the computer screen and he shot the world's most powerful glare in the direction of the sudden, unwelcomed cacophony. A small blond boy, clearly oblivious to Haru's death stare—actually oblivious to Haru entirely—playfully kicked the door shut and busied himself with the removal of his blue jacket and bright yellow scarf in the corner of the lab.

 _I hate you._ The irked male thought. _Who the fuck are you anyway? What are you, 14? How did you even get in here?_

As Haru internally berated the intruder, the little fuck continued to hum noisily while practically dumping the contents of his messenger bag onto the floor. Pens and highlighters clattered to the ground as he yanked a neon pink notebook out of one of the pockets; Haru saw a black and white object bounce under one of the desks; an apparently precious object because the boy yelped before falling to his knees to search for it anxiously. Still unnoticed, Haru began to feel less scathing hatred and more mild amusement as he watched the strange young male peek under a (wrong) desk against the opposite wall. He looked very childlike perched on all fours with his butt in the air as he struggled to reach his thin arm far enough under the desk to feel around for his toy. Haru raised an eyebrow when the boy stood up with an exasperated huff, staring at the offensive piece of furniture and making physical preparations to attempt to move the heavy computer desk; he couldn't decide if he wanted to witness the inevitably hilarious show that would take place when the tiny blond tried to move something at least three times heavier than him, or if he should help him out a little…

"It went und-"

"AHH FUCK!" The boy screamed in a slightly deeper voice than Haru expected. He tensed up and clutched his chest as he whipped his head around, wild eyes falling on the black haired student sitting about 10 feet from him who still had his hands poised above a keyboard. "What—um, sorry—what? You scared the shit out of me. I didn't expect anyone to be in here."

"Obviously," replied Haru, annoyance creeping into his voice, "do you always enter empty rooms like that?"

" _Obviously_ not, since the room wasn't _empty_." The boy said, mocking Haru's tone and still breathing hard.

Haru removed his hands from the keyboard and swiveled in his chair to regard the blond properly.

 _Who the fuck do you think you are, you little cunt._

Okay, so he can't say that to a stranger, no matter how irritating said stranger was. Besides, it wasn't the boy's fault that Haru was in the midst of a bout of aggressive self-loathing. However, it was his fault that his flow of ideas had been viciously interrupted. So. Fuck him.

"I'm sorry, but who are you? Do you even go here?" Haru asked bitingly. To his surprise, the blond suddenly beamed at him with genuine warmth.

"Oh! I'm Nagisa, and sorry for bothering you, I really didn't expect anyone to be in here this time of day…and yeah, I go here. I'm—"

"Wait. This time of day? What time is it?" Haru looked around, panicked. Grabbing his cellphone he realized that he had 6 missed calls and just as many texts, all from Makoto. It was 7pm—he had been in the lab for four hours, and he somehow never realized that Makoto hadn't returned. He had also missed his last class.

Groaning, he scrolled through his texts:

3:38pm MAKO: PICK UP YOUR PHONE!

3:40pm MAKO: Don't panic, but your car is being towed to Rei's garage. I don't know what happened

3:40pm MAKO: I mean I know what happened, some kid backed into it outside the apt

3:48pm MAKO: he's going to pay for it but the tire hole…wheel hole? IDK the place where the tire goes is all effed up so it doesn't look drivable RN. I'm sorry :(

3:48pm MAKO: I'll buy you coffee for a year please don't hate me

4:29pm MAKO: please call me when you get this.

4:29pm MAKO: I'm so sorry!

Haru rested his head on his arms on the desk. "Fuck," he grumbled. He raised his head to type a response:

7:06pm HARU: fantastic. I don't hate you. Not your fault. I'm taking you up on your offer though. I'll see you later.

7:07pm MAKO: Let me know if you need a ride home. Kisumi brought me to my car.

7:07pm: HARU: thanks.

The now-carless-student put his head back down on the desk, momentarily ignoring his new acquaintance, who had since wandered closer with a look of concerned intrigue.

"Um…are you okay?" Nagisa said quietly.

Haru lifted his head to rest his chin on his hand and narrowed his eyes at the curious boy, "Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered, "my best friend just wrecked my car." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his tired blue eyes.

"Oh my god! Is he hurt?" the boy asked, clearly not the best at reading nonverbal cues.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. He's dead. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a paper to write or something." And with that, he put his head back down on the desk, silently begging to be left alone.

"Okay," Nagisa giggled, "well do you need a ride home or anything? I don't really have anything to work on, I just came in to get my TA notes that I left in the printer earlier."

Rolling both his eyes and head to the side to look at the other male, Haru was ready to snap at him again, until he realized what the small boy had just said. His eyes widened and he abruptly sat up.

"TA? You're a TA? You mean…are you a graduate student?"

"Yeah!" Nagisa giggled again, "you seem surprised."

"Well yeah…I um, kind of thought you were in high school… or something…You're…" Haru nervously trailed off, not sure how to address this boy—er, man who he had just been so blatantly and needlessly rude to.

"I'm what? Short? Adorable?"

"Yeah. I MEAN, um, you're short. And just really young looking. I never would have guessed." Suddenly flustered, Haru averted his gaze and swiveled to face his computer screen.

Nagisa giggled again. _He giggled,_ Haru thought to himself, _the man giggles like a school girl._

"So what are you?" the giggling graduate student inquired as he kneeled in the computer chair next to Haru, gripping the back and slowly spinning himself around.

 _Busy,_ he thought, _I'm busy._

"I mean," _spin_ "I know you're a psychology student," _spin_ "or else you wouldn't be in here" _spin_ "what year are you? What's your name?"

"Yeah I'm a psych student. A senior. My name is Haru." He answered to the computer screen.

"Haaaruu," nagisa said as he spun the chair once more. "It's nice to meet you, Haru-chan" he said, sticking his hand out in a formal greeting.

Haru's gaze flicked from the computer screen to the blond's outstretched hand and to his cheerful face; he hesitated before taking the warm hand in his, "Haru- _chan?_ Really?"

"Yep! Seems fitting. So what are you working on Haru-chan?" he added as he withdrew his hand. He leaned his chin onto the back of the chair to stare expectantly at the dark haired male.

"Uh. It's um.. a proposal." Haru tore his eyes from Nagisa's energetic face, _this guy's level of eye contact is too much,_ "I'm proposing a study to investigate the conversion of glutamate to GABA by way of an increase of glutamic acid decarboxylase. It's um..been difficult to find a practical method to test my hypothesis" he admitted dryly to the keyboard.

"I see," the blond replied after a pause, "I'm a social psych guy, so I don't know much about neurotransmitters or…whatever that acid thing is, but I could help you with your methods sometime if you want."

Haru raised his eyebrows and looked over at the shorter male, who had begun wiggling back and forth in the chair again, _He looks like a puppy,_ he thought, trying not to acknowledge how terribly self-conscious he was beginning to feel under Nagisa's intense stare. He had no choice but to notice the unusual coloring of his large eyes, which seemed to bore holes into Haru's soul.

 _Is this guy wearing pink contacts?_ "Um, yeah, that would—"

"Great!" Nagisa launched himself at Haru's computer screen, "what do you have so far? Can I see?"

"I didn't mean now!" Haru cried at his companion's unexpected enthusiasm.

"Oh it's fine I don't mind" the blond replied merrily as he leaned towards the screen, pressing his shoulder against the shocked student. Nagisa reached over the desk to grab the mouse, but Haru was not having it.

"Hey!" he said, a little too loudly, as he tried to snatch the mouse away from the meddlesome male, "Can you not!?" Haru's hand closed around Nagisa's small wrist to keep him from scrolling up to the top of the document. Shocked by his own sudden reaction, Haru quickly released the blond, who had stilled.

"I'm…I'm not ready to have anyone look at it yet.." he said more quietly, a blush creeping up his cheeks at the closeness of the other, who was again examining Haru's face and practically sitting in his lap.

 _Has he ever heard of personal space? Jesus._ "I still need to fix some things," he said, glancing at Nagisa's arm, which was still stretched across the desk. Haru awkwardly rolled his chair back to gain some distance from the man, who he realized smelled very pleasantly of fabric softener and-

"Ah, sorry Haru-chan. I didn't mean to be nosy." He said, straightening up. "But please let me know if you need any help."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." Haru said, sounding slightly more irritated than he meant to. Nagisa was still looking at him and smiling, as though he expected him to continue speaking. _Oh my god, what?_ He thought.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you want my number?"

Haru blanched, "um what?" he said, crinkling his eyebrows. "Why?"

"How else would you ask for my help?" Nagisa laughed warmly. "Never mind, I don't want to pressure you, I'm sure you will do just fine without me. I hope I get to read the findings of your study one day. When you're a famous researcher I'll get to tell people that I met you once and you almost made me piss myself!" He laughed again as he walked over to the printer to retrieve his TA notes. Haru watched his back as he flipped through the print outs, humming to himself. Nagisa smiled at the undergrad as shoved the papers into his pink notebook before bending down to retrieve the items he had abandoned on the floor.

Grabbing his coat and scarf, the blond smiled once more at Haru before turning to open the door.

"It was very nice meeting you, Haru-chan."

"You too." Haru said, though it sort of came out as more of a question than a statement. He blinked a few times after the door had closed.

With a sudden realization, he stood up and walked over to one of the desks on the other side of the room. He got down on his hands and knees and slid his hand into the dark space between the wood and the carpet; he immediately closed his hand around a small rubber object and smirked to himself. _What the fuck. What a weirdo_. He thought as he looked at the penguin shaped eraser in his hand.

Quickly crossing the room, he opened the door and shouted down the hallway.

"Hey wait!"


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry for being rude before, I've just been having a rough day…er, a rough couple of weeks? Months? I'm just sorry." Haru sighed. The graduate student had heard Haru shout and came back to retrieve the trinket he had left behind. Feeling slightly less irritated, Haru decided he should at least apologize for his shitty behavior.

"It's okay, I've been there before. You're just stressed out." The understanding man replied with his usual smile.

"Yeah, well, I still feel bad." Insisted Haru, leaning against the wall,"you seem like a really nice guy…and…I would really appreciate it if you would be willing to help me sometime..just not right now."

"Of course! I offered, didn't I? I don't just go around offering my precious time to just anyone, you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Haru said raising an eyebrow.

"Don't look so suspicious. I'm just saying I would be more than happy to help a fellow overworked student…especially one who is experiencing vehicular difficulties." He added sympathetically.

 _Oh fuck._

The strange blond's antics had helped him forget that Makoto had all-but momentarily ruined his life, but now the sinking feeling of automobile-related dread came flooding back. Haru buried his face in his hands.

"I forgot about that." He said, completely drained. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor in misery.

"Oh don't be so dramatic," Nagisa teased as he sat down next to him, "I'll give you a ride home if you want."

Haru peeked at the man's kind face through his fingers, "How can you offer that when you don't even know where I live?"

"I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I didn't have any work to do. I don't really have anything to do for a couple days. You could be my entertainment for the evening!" the male said eagerly, lightly grabbing Haru's bicep.

Haru glanced uncomfortably at the hand on his arm, "Your entertainment? I…actually don't live that far away…I was just saying—"

"Then come get coffee with me! Have you eaten? I was just about to get dinner!" His eyes glittered as he got up on his knees excitedly, squeezing Haru's arm more tightly. "Come on, please? You owe me for being a douche before."

"Ah.." the dark haired student started, _doesn't this guy have friends? A girlfriend? …okay that's not likely. A boyfriend then? He seems friendly enough to be in some kind of relationship. And…_ "You smell really good." The unwelcomed words leaked out of Haru's mouth in a mumbled whisper; horrified, he felt the prickle of a violent blush envelop his face.

"Thank you! Now let's go," the blond insisted, seemingly unaware of Haru's mortification. "You look like you're on the verge of death. You need some coffee in you. You like coffee, right?"

Nagisa stood and tugged Haru to his feet by his sleeve. "Okay fine, Jesus. Hold on, let me get my stuff."

"Yay!" Nagisa clapped his hands together playfully; Haru couldn't help but imagine his tail wagging. He staggered a bit as he stood, realizing how physically exhausted he truly felt.

* * *

Once outside, Haru stood for a moment enjoying the mid-fall breeze, allowing the fresh air to graze his tired skin and rustle his dark hair.

"Haru-chaaan, come oooon. I'm cold." Nagisa whined.

"Then put your coat on!" Haru griped, eyeing the garment slung over the blond's arm.

"But then I'll be too hoooot. Come on come on!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're pushy?

"Would you believe me if I said no?" Haru rolled his eyes and quickly caught up to the whiny graduate student. "Where are we going?"

"To my car, which is….um…over there?" he said less-than-confidently, pointing aimlessly at the dark parking lot.

"I assumed we were going to your car, ass, I mean where are we going for the coffee you insisted that I need."

"Some place around the corner. I don't know the name of it, but they make good coffee and the lighting is nice."

"The lighting is nice? What do you mean?"

"Um… I don't know. I'm so cooold." Nagisa whined again. Haru noticed him creeping closer as they walked towards the parking lot. _Does he want me to put my arm around him or something? What's with this guy?_ Before he could wonder further, the blond grabbed his arm tightly and held it to his chest. "Mmmm you're warm Haru-chan."

The sudden contact made Haru's pulse quicken, and he instinctively stepped away from the shorter male. "You, uh," he said nervously, "here." He grabbed Nagisa's coat off his arm and wrapped it haphazardly around his slim shoulders, "Better?"

"I guess so." Nagisa grumbled.

Curiosity and awkward agitation finally got the best of Haru, "How old are you exactly?" he asked, somewhat indignantly.

"Twenty-six," the blond answered while slipping his hand into his pocket to retrieve his keys, "Found my car!" he announced, tail lights flashing as he pushed the unlock button.

"Damn.." Haru whispered.

"What's wrong?" the blond asked, concerned.

"Well...and no offense, you look like you're…not twenty-six. And you act…not twenty-six…"

Nagisa giggled, "How should I act, then? How do twenty-six year-olds act?"

"I…guess I don't know. Sorry." Haru replied, praying that the darkness of the parking lot hid his uninvited embarrassment.

"Let me guess, you're…twenty-one." The man stated matter-of-factly as they approached a black Volkswagen Passat.

Haru knew it wasn't that difficult to guess his age; most traditional college seniors were either twenty-one or twenty-two. "Yeah. I just meant that you're just not like the other graduate students I've known."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Nagisa smirked while opening the driver-side door.

 _What the fuck am I doing?_ The younger student asked himself as he slid into the passenger seat. _I just met this guy. All I want is to go home and go to bed._

"You're definitely not what I would call a disappointment." He said glancing sideways at the blond as he started the car. Again, troubling words were sliding unbidden past Haru's tongue. His eyes widened and he quickly looked away, flustered, "I mean, I just met you" he sputtered, "It's not like I had any expectations." _You're making it worse._ "That's not what I meant either, I just… you seem nice." He finished quietly, his gaze trained on his fidgeting fingers.

"Haru-chan," the older man whispered, leaning over slightly to encourage the his embarrassed passenger to look at him, "You seem nice too. And calm the fuck down." He punctuated his words with an amused grin.

"Yeah, sorry." Haru replied, smiling privately to himself as Nagisa pulled out of the parking space.

 _I guess I'm not bored, at least._

* * *

The students sat across from each other at a small booth in the café—Haru with his coffee, and Nagisa with his cup of what looked to be whipped cream with chocolate sprinkles.

"So what are you working on right now? In your program, I mean. In school." Haru inquired after tasting his coffee. It wasn't bad.

"A study on goal-driven resource distribution."

"That sounds…" Haru began.

"Boring?" the blond giggled, waving his spoon dismissively, "yeah, it is. We are pretty much forced to do our mentor's research. Seeing your name in a published journal article is pretty neat, though."

"You've been published!" Haru choked on his coffee, suddenly stricken with admiration, "Anything I would know?"

Nagisa rested his chin on his hand, spooning some of the white cream into his mouth while he thought. "Probably not, you seem to be more neurobiologically oriented. Have you read 'Gender differences in receptivity to sexual offers.'" he raised an eyebrow as slid his tongue along the edge of his spoon.

"Can't…say that I have." Haru averted his eyes from Nagisa's face, wondering if he was being intentionally suggestive. _Is he…_ "I couldn't care less about social psychology," Haru blurted, _shit,_ "ah, crap, I didn't mean it like that. Sorry, I just mean that I am not interested in studying people….like that. I just can't make myself care about those types of things. Like, social relationships… I'm not that great with people…like, face to face. I get annoyed easily. I probably wouldn't do well in that field." He sipped his coffee and stared unseeing into the darkness beyond the window. _I'm such a dick._

"Actually," the blond started, obviously unphased, "a lot of my colleagues are autistic lunatics who can't make eye contact or carry on a normal conversation. You'd like them." He said with a wink.

"What..hey! And what is that supposed to mean!" The student asserted, placing his hand on his chest in mock offense. He was beginning to feel slightly less drowsy, and he was actually enjoying talking with this strange, overly friendly man-child.

"Nothing Haru- _chan_ ," replied the older male, smirking and licking whipped cream off his fingers.

Haru's gaze settled on Nagisa's pouty lips as he licked them clean. He was a rather attractive man, even if he didn't possess any traditional masculine qualities. Women would murder their children for his long eyelashes and perfect cheekbones, and he was elegantly slender, his movements subtly reminiscent of a dancer. His delicate collar bones added a touch of sensuality to the casual baseball-styled t-shirt he wore, which seemed to have been tailored specifically to accentuate the graceful curvature of his neck and shoulders. His hair held a certain incandescent quality under the dim lights of the café. It looked like it would be light and silky to the touch, yet it hung loose and endearingly unkempt over his forehead, with pieces framing the soft features of his face. His eyes were still a mystery to Haru, who couldn't figure out if he was in fact wearing contact lenses or if he had just never been exposed to this particular color before. It wasn't like he made a point to gaze into strangers' eyes on a regular basis. He actually went out of his way to _not_ look people in the eyes. Either way, the graduate student's eyes glittered beautifully under the soft lighting.

 _He was right about this place having good lighting. But what a weird thing to say._

Haru never really had a firm grasp on his own sexuality. He dated a few girls in high school, mostly to get Makoto off his back, but they ended things when it became clear that he wasn't emotionally invested. And speaking of Makoto, there was that one night last summer outside a bar when they found themselves drunkenly sobbing and clinging to each other, swearing tearfully to remain best friends forever; Haru may or may not have backed Makoto against the wall, and he may or may not have pressed himself against his taller friend, leaning up to sloppily make out with the brunet in an erroneous attempt to express his fraternal affection. It wasn't until Makoto emitted an embarrassingly loud and needy moan in response to their hips grinding together that the reality of the situation snapped them out of the reverie of their rather public display. Or maybe it was Makoto's girlfriend shrieking and running away crying? The memory was hazy…Of course, then there was his first year of college when he was seduced by his cognitive psychology professor, a beautiful, brilliant graduate student with steely grey eyes, a deliciously athletic physique, and a tongue that—

"Haru-chan, are you alright?"

Haru blinked dumbly, realizing he had been staring at Nagisa's mouth. "Uh yeah, sorry. I was just remembering something." He mumbled before draining the last drops of coffee from his cup.

"Mmhm, anything interesting?" the blond leaned onto his elbows expectantly.

Haru chewed on his bottom lip nervously. _You did this to yourself, you idiot._ But he was suddenly filled with the pleasant buzz of caffeine-induced confidence—and maybe just a small amount of memory-induced arousal—so he pushed his empty cup aside to lean forward, imitating the smaller male.

"Fucking. Fascinating." he purred in—what he hoped was—his sexiest voice, intensely holding Nagisa's gaze.

For a moment it seemed like the perky blond was taken aback at the younger student's uncharacteristic head jerked back minutely and his eyes widened briefly before resuming their usual luster, sparkling with an added hint of mischief. "Oooh, not just fascinating but _fucking_ as well. That sounds like fun, feel like sharing?"

 _I feel like showing._ The thought whipped through Haru's mind fiercely unanticipated, effectively vaporizing any chance of eloquently continuing his attempt to playfully tease the other man. _Fuck, I really am tired._ He sighed, defeated, and sat back in the booth. "You win."

"I didn't realize I was playing." His expression didn't change; he didn't move, "Haru-chan?"

"Hm?" the student answered, suddenly engrossed in the glass sugar caddy at the edge of the table.

"You blush a lot."

"Yeah. That sounds about right." He said, flicking a packet of Sweet and Low towards the window.

"So do you want my number or not?" The blond asked, sitting back in his seat with his eyes still trained on Haru's face.

"Sure. Why not."

"Good!" the man beamed, "give me your phone."

Haru frowned a moment before retrieving his cell from his back pocket, unfamiliar with this level of casual intimacy. He handed the phone across the table anyway.

Nagisa snatched the device playfully from Haru's hand—who tried to pretend that the way their fingers touched briefly didn't make his skin tingle—and busied himself with entering his number into the student's contact list. With a satisfied smile, he handed the phone back to the dark haired male, who was trying to be inconspicuous about the fact that he couldn't suppress the urge to rub his still-tingling fingers.

"I texted myself to make sure I have your number too. Don't worry, I won't send you inappropriate photos or anything."

Haru wondered if their ideas of 'inappropriate' aligned at all. He bit his lip to eliminate the possibility of embarrassing himself again.

"So," Nagisa chirped, leaning forward again, "Did you want to get food, too? They only have things like muffins and cookies here. Which, I mean, is fine with me, but we could go somewhere else if you want."

"Ah, no that's okay. I'm not really hungry. I'll wait while you get something though. You said you were going to get dinner before."

"What do you think that was?" the grad smiled, pointing to his empty mug.

"I honestly have no idea what that was."

"Hot chocolate made with heavy cream, topped with whipped cream."

"Well that…somehow makes a lot of sense." Haru said laughing.

"I'm glad you know me so well, Haru-chan." Nagisa winked again, tapping the student's foot under the table, which Haru suddenly and alarmingly realized had been resting _on top_ of the blond's own small extremity; he jerked his leg back in shock; his heart rate accelerating.

"Oh!—Ah, sorry. I um, thought that was the table. I didn't mean—"

"Haru-chan, seriously. Calm the fuck down."

 _Oh god, what's wrong with me. I'm never like this. This is ridiculous. I have to get out of here._

"Uh, yeah sorry…I should probably get home. If you still don't mind taking me, that is…"

"It would be my pleasuurrre," the man said lowly, drawing out the word 'pleasure' in a way Haru knew was meant to tease, "we should leave before you start trying to take my pants off, too."

 _Oh god._ "Oh god. Yeah. I mean," _Fuck!_ "No! um, sorry, lets just go. I'm…obviously really tired."

The shorter man smiled lazily and extracted himself from the booth, stretching his hands above his head and yawning; Haru's eyes were drawn to the slender waist that peeked out from under the man's shirt briefly before he brought his arms back down and turned to face the flustered student.

 _He totally just did that on purpose. Fuck this guy._

Nagisa turned to leave and Haru followed a pace behind him, wondering how else he was going to make a fool of himself on the drive to his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Haru's brain was buzzing with caffeine, mental exhaustion, and discomposure. Doing his best to keep the conversation aggravatingly bland in a desperate attempt to steer clear of any potentially embarrassing verbal spasms, he asked Nagisa innocuous questions about his car, how long he's lived in the area, and he—cringing—even mentioned how unseasonably warm it's been. They eventually settled into a silence that had Haru glancing anxiously around the car.

"Do you have any music or anything?" he student finally questioned, realizing they still had a few miles left to drive. He couldn't make any more small talk; it was killing him.

"I do!" the blond answered happily, reaching over Haru to open his glove compartment and extract an iPod. He set it on the younger man's knee, "play whatever you like! The chord is…uh…oh, never mind, I slammed it in the door yesterday and I forgot to buy a new one. Sorry, Haru-chan."

 _Sigh_ "It's fine." Haru leaned his head against the window to appreciate the coolness of the glass on his temple.

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"What!" the male jolted at the suddenness of the question, "um, no I don't."

"Boyfriend?"

"No…I—I don't." _Lord save me._ "uh…why?"

" Mmh.."The graduate student seemed to consider Haru's question for a moment, creating an atmosphere that made Haru want to claw his way out the window.

"How do you know Levi?"

"Huh!?" _What the fuck?_ "How…do you know that I know Levi?"

"Your phone, silly." The man smiled, glancing momentarily from the road to observe his startled passenger. "I saw his name in your contacts when I added mine. His last name is Ackerman, so it was at the top."

Haru's mind blanked. "We um. He…I…he was my cognitive psych professor." He forced out quickly.

"Uh huh," Nagisa giggled, "do you have all of your former professors' phone numbers?"

"So what if I do?" the student snapped.

"Then I would say you're either really into school, or really slutty, especially if they all look like Levi."

The younger male gaped at the driver, burning with a mixture of shock and dread.

"Do you kn-er, excuse me!? What the fuck are you trying to say?"

The blond's sly smile never faltered, "I don't know, what do you think I'm trying to say?"

Haru just stared, dumbly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh my god, Haru-chan, relax. I'm just teasing you." He reached over to squeeze the vexed student's knee, unconcerned by the noticeable recoil, "There are literally, like, four whole reasons why you might have his number, I didn't really mean anything by it."

The passenger visibly exhaled and turned away, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so defensive."

"I know," replied the blond, placing both hands on the steering wheel. "So you aren't in a relationship." He stated. "I guess that means I can't use you, then."

"Okay, now what does _that_ mean!" Haru bristled again.

"You really need to work on that defensive attitude of yours, Haru-chan." Nagisa laughed.

"Maybe _you_ need to work on your...vulgar and suggestive comments!" _Did I seriously just use the word 'vulgar?' I'm such a tool._

"I don't think I'm the one framing them suggestively, Haaaaru-chan."

"I—ugh! What! Okay, seriously, what do you mean you can't use me?"

"I only meant," he paused, and flashed the student a grin, "that I wouldn't be able to use you as a participant. In a study. Is that okay?"

"Oh for fuck's sake." Haru slouched in his seat. "You are…exhausting."

"Want to test that statement?"

 _Jesus fucking Christ. Wait._ "Hey wait, a study? I thought you were working on something about goals and resources…why would my relationship status exclude me from the sample?"

"Oh yeah, that's my advisor's research, but I have a few ideas of my own. I'm still in the preliminary stages, though. I turn here, right?"

"Um yeah. So what are your own ideas?" Haru perked up, interested; his heart rate slowing.

Nagisa hummed thoughtfully for a moment; evidently unsure if he should share his intentions with the curious male.

"Never mind," the student added quickly, "I understand if you're not ready to talk about it. My apartment is up here on the left. The yellow building"

"Thanks Haru-chan. I'll definitely tell you about it soon, though. I promise."

He pulled to the side of the road and brought the car to a smooth stop. Haru opened the door and gathered the backpack at his feet; he glanced sideways at the small blond, who had turned his body in the driver's seat to watch him exit the car.

"Well," Haru began, "it was nice to meet you and tha-"

"Haru, wait!" Nagisa gasped, catching the student's wrist as he leaned to exit the car.

He wordlessly glanced down at the small hand gripping him. "I—" Haru opened his mouth and closed it again, words escaping him; his brain frozen. "Yeah…?" he finally whispered, hoping the older male couldn't detect the waver in his voice, or the fact that his breath hitched when he found himself staring up at the man's magenta eyes, dark from the dim light of the car.

The blond stared into Haru's frozen face, seemingly searching for something in particular; his face fixed with his signature impish smile.

"What—" Haru started hoarsely; he cleared his throat, "what are you doing?"

Shining eyes blinked and Nagisa released the younger male's hand, "an experiment." He beamed, placing his delicate fingers softly back on the steering wheel. "Goodnight Haru-chan."

"Um yeah. Thanks for the ride." Haru managed with a slight scowl, a mix of irritated confusion and...something else impeding his ability to be polite. He stepped out onto the street and forcefully slammed the door without looking back. He heard the car pull away as his long strides took him across the street and to the stoop of his apartment building. It wasn't until he tried sliding the key into the lock that he acknowledged how violently his hands were shaking; his body high from an accelerated heart rate.

 _I shouldn't have had coffee this late._

He slid the key into the lock and turned it quietly; it was only 10pm, plus it was a Friday, so he knew Makoto would probably be up playing the new Fallout game that his brother bought him for his birthday, but Haru wasn't in the mood for any more human interaction. Especially interactions involving groveling and militant apologizing.

 _I guess I have to go to Rei's tomorrow to check the damage._ He thought, lamenting the fate of his car.

He sighed, quietly slipping through the door to the foyer and shutting it behind him. An unexpected silence greeted him as he toed off his shoes and hung up his keys. Relief spread through his chest as he figured that Makoto had gone to bed early, _he probably passed out from the overwhelming guilt. It's got to be exhausting ruining your friend's life._ He melodramatically fumed as he tripped over some of what looked to be and item from of his roommate's nearby laundry basket.

 _Oh good, he's even trying to kill me._

He padded through the kitchen to the cabinet in search of a bottle of some garbage wine that Rin had left behind last week; he had a fight with his girlfriend—at least what Rin considered to be a fight, Haru wouldn't label a mild disagreement about curtains as a fight—and begged to spend the night on their couch in exchange for two bottles of pinot noir, which turned into one after Rin decided he needed a glass or 3, and spent the rest of the night sobbing into Makoto's chest. As much as he enjoyed his emotional friend's theatrics, right now wished that he had left behind something a bit stronger. Haru didn't often drink, but after the strange night he had, _I just need something to counter the caffeine,_ he chose to forego a glass and took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

"mhm…st..p"

Haru stilled as a muted sound caught his ears. There was no light shining from the living room, so he didn't think his roommate was awake, _Maybe he fell asleep on the couch,_ the male concluded, slightly perturbed that he might have to rouse his friend if he wanted to drink his wine in front of some shitty movie on Netflix. Maybe he could sneak by and spend the rest of the night alone in his room, drinking bad wine with his laptop and watching—

"..ah…a"

Another sound emanated from the darkened room, and Haru decided to be a hero and rescue Makoto—who was prone to night terrors—from whatever dream was causing him to moan in his sleep. He sighed again, and paced across the large kitchen to the living room with his bottle in hand and—

A terrified scream tore through the apartment


	4. Chapter 4

"WHAT THE FUCK HARU!?"

"AH JESUS! SORRY SORRY, SHIT!" Haru slapped his hands over his face, practically hitting himself with the bottle of wine as he ducked back behind the doorway.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULD HAVE TO PICK HIM UP, MAKOTO! WHY IS HE HERE!?"

"I don't—fuck, get your pants. Haru I'm so sorry!"

"Why are you apologizing to him! He's the one—"

"Kisumi, oh my god shut up. Put your goddamn pants on!"

"Where the fuck are they!? I don't think they're even in here!

"Well where else could they be!? You literally just had them on!"

"It's not my fault you were a little too excit—"

"Yes it is your fault! You wouldn't stop touching me!"

Haru leaned against the kitchen wall with his hand clasped firmly over his mouth to muffle the hysterical laughter that threatened to spill past his lips. _I knew it, I fucking knew it_. He thought triumphantly as he listened to the panicked whispers radiating from the other room. A very flustered Makoto dashed into the kitchen, eyes wild and face flushed with embarrassment and dissipating arousal.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry I didn't expect you to be home." Makoto sputtered as he tugged his shirt on.

"It's fine already, stop apologizing." Answered Haru, with as much indifference as he could muster. He blankly regarded his mortified friend as he took a drink from his bottle. "So how long has this been going on?" he asked, gesturing to the living room, a smirk threatening to shatter his veneer of vague disinterest.

"Umm well…" the taller man blushed deeper and rubbed the back of his neck, "this would have been the first—"

"Whoa, would have been? But," Haru narrowed his eyes, "you still have…" he tapped at his own bottom lip suggestively.

Makoto's hand flew to his face in horror, "What! How! I mean—he—I didn't—I wasn't—he was the one—um—"

Strangled laughter erupted from Haru as he doubled over, clutching his stomach. Makoto watched his friend literally vibrate with laughter and clutch the wall to steady himself.

"Okay okay stop stop I was kidding," he forced out before gasping for breath, "I just couldn't help myself. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your date." He wiped away a tear and pushed past a still very embarrassed Makoto, "I'll leave you guys alone. Hey Kisumi," he greeted the pink haired man who had hurriedly grabbed a blanket to cover himself. "I hope you guys are able to pick up where you left off!" He added, teasingly, crossing the living room to the hallway, "And NO MAKOTO," he said, anticipating his friend's words as he tried to chase after him, "we are NOT talking about my car tonight. By the way, Kisumi, your pants are in the foyer." He added with cackle as he slid into his bedroom and shut the door softly.

* * *

Haru's laughter almost immediately subsided as he paced the few steps to his bed.

He collapsed face first onto his comforter, his bottle of wine hanging languidly from his fingers off the side of the mattress. He was tired and annoyed, and he cringed internally as he recalled the vivid details of his humiliating evening. He sat up and took a long drink of the foul liquid.

 _I better not hear those two fucking._

He reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, blinking rapidly at the bright screen in the darkness. The wine had already begun to work its magic, and Haru noticed a slight out-of-focus quality to his vision as he tapped the 'contacts' icon and scrolled through the list of names. He rolled his eyes when he reached the 'N's:

33~~~NAGISA~~~33

He tossed the phone aside and lifted the bottle to his lips again; three long sips later, he pulled the bottle from his mouth with a low pop. Licking the remnants off his reddened lips, he turned and set the nearly empty bottle on the hardwood floor.

He sat for a moment and contemplated his options for the remainder of the night, trying to pinpoint his mood now that he had successfully impaired his cognition just enough to where he found some respite from the day's irregularity. Swaying slightly, he opted to just let the night end and allowed his back to hit the mattress. A thought occurred to him and he collected his phone again, re-opening his contacts. His eyes stilled on the first name on the list:

 _Levi Ackerman. I haven't thought about you in a while._

He tossed his phone away again, wondering why it had been so long since he had heard—or even thought of— the name of the man who had ignited an all-encompassing fervor within him three years ago.

Haru had been obsessed.

Raw, unbridled lust had been a new concept to his 18 year-old virginal self, and he spent what felt like hours reveling in the way a two-word text from the man would blaze fire down his spine and cause his dick to twitch: " _My office."_

The beautiful, fuzzy warmth of the wine radiated through his chest and settled into the core of his abdomen. Haru closed his eyes and enjoyed the rare quiet that enveloped him; his now alcohol-addled mind wandered, and so did his hand, resting above the hem of his jeans that had ridden low as he slid himself up the bed to rest his head on the pillow. He ran his thumb lightly back and forth over the smooth skin on his hip, and he found himself recalling the electric feeling of Nagisa's warm hand on his own. The _unwelcome_ feeling, of course.

 _An experiment. Did that even mean anything? I'm drunk. And how does he even know Levi? Hm, well that's stupid. They work in the same department, you dick. Ugh, that little shit called me a slut. I haven't even seen Levi in over a year, and it's not like I fucked anyone since then…or before. Well, maybe I am a little slutty…I mean, fuck, who sleeps with their professors? Mmmmm…I do. That's who. Especially when they look like—"_

"Levi.." Haru moaned into the lightless room, sliding his hand down the front of his jeans to gingerly ghost his fingers over the rough fabric; the pressure just faint enough to tease his wine-induced half erection. He slipped his other hand under his t-shirt, imitating the delicate feather light touches he was applying to his clothed member. He actually couldn't remember the last time he pleasured himself; school had worn on him so severely that he would barely made it into the shower before dropping into bed, too exhausted to even think about his dick, let alone spend the time it would take to come up with a fantasy deserving of the arduous task of inevitable cleanup.

It wasn't like he was interested in anyone at the moment, either, which just exacerbated the pervasive boredom that had been tormenting him for months. For now, he was determined to enjoy the memories of fervid panting and the urgent groans that would tumble from his professor's impeccably sensuous mouth as he slid his hardened length into Haru's needy throat. He palmed his now-full erection through his pants, raising his hips involuntarily in search of more exquisite pressure.

He visualized the manner in which Levi would allow his piercing gaze to linger—just a second too long—on the student during lecture, and how the younger male would intentionally pack his books and writing materials slowly at the end of class, eyeing the man at the front of the room while the other students rushed out.

He popped the button open on his jeans as he recalled the moment when the last students would filter out, and the man would hastily stalk the length of the room before crushing the student's mouth to his in a desperate hunger.

He lowered his zipper as he remembered Levi's deft fingers working to first undo his belt, then the button, then his fly to allow him access to Haru's rapidly swelling arousal. He moaned softly as he gripped himself through his boxer briefs, allowing the memory of the man's fingers sliding into his wet mouth to spur him on, slipping his hand beneath the fabric to run the pad of his thumb over his wet slit.

He shuddered deliciously as he fought the urge to start stroking himself, instead opting to tease himself further to the thoughts of the wet sounds of a mouth on his cock. He made a loose circle with his fingers and thrust into them, his flesh just barely granting him the friction he greedily sought. Wine and lust swirled delectably through his blood, clouding his thoughts with a thick, smoldering haze while he envisioned an ardent tongue gliding painfully slow over his dripping tip, his fingers tangling into messy blond locks in ecstasy as his length is enveloped by full, sanguine lips.

Finally indulging in the euphoria of the fantasy, he curled his hand completely around his aching hardness, moaning hotly at the pressure and spreading his legs on the bed. His head lolled back onto the pillow as he pumped himself to the thought of pink eyes, heavy-lidded and black with lust, gazing up into his own desperate face; small, delicate hands, one gripping his thigh, the other wandering down between the owner's slender legs to relieve his own burgeoning need, rocking his hips into his palm as he moaned around the throbbing cock in his mouth.

Haru thumbed the moisture at his florid tip and spread it hastily down the side of his erection, desperate to simulate the feeling of a slick tongue coaxing him to his peak. He rolled his hips up into his hand, quickening the pace of his strokes as he felt an urgent tension rippling at the base of his cock. He imagined his length sliding out of a watering mouth with an obscene pop, a lithe figure crawling up his body to straddle his waist, heavy, lust-blown eyes locking with his own before swollen lips breathe humidly—desperately—into his ear, " _please, Haru-chan."_

Dizzy with want, he moaned loudly as he came—hot white ribbons painting his fingers and abdomen as he slung his arm over his mouth to muffle the cry begging to spill past his lips. His orgasm came in waves and shuddering gasps; his hips stuttering off the bed as he gripped his pulsing cock, still releasing hot beads of semen which melted like pearls on his stomach.

He rode out the last waves of his dissipating pleasure and finally stilled, removing his sticky fingers from his spent cock. After enjoying a few deep, stabilizing breaths, he reached through the dark to grope at his nightstand for his tissues. As his alcohol-hampered hand knocked the box to the floor, he wearily propped himself up on his elbows and cast a look of irritation towards the floor.

"Goddammit." He mumbled to the empty room and flopped back onto the pillow in frustration.

 _God-_ damn- _it._


End file.
